Legend of Michael (24 page)

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Authors: Lisa Renee Jones

BOOK: Legend of Michael
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“You can’t know that, Michael,” Cassandra insisted, closing the distance between them. “Why is the fact that your mother is selling Green Hornets to the government any different than selling them any other weapon?”

His mother knew what she was doing and why—he’d bet his life on it. “She knows,” he said, steel lining the words. “Someone was with her last night. A man.”

Understanding shuddered across her delicate features. “You think it was my father,” she said. It wasn’t a question, but he still offered a nod of confirmation. Her lips parted in a pause, before she whispered, “And you think they’re… intimate?”

“Yes,” he revealed grimly, shadows of the past rippling through his tone, despite his effort to contain them. “It was your father.”

“Do you have any idea where your father’s PMI lab is, Cassandra?” Caleb asked.

Her lips thinned, her arms crossed in front of her in what appeared to be a mixture of both disgust and a bit of withdrawal. “No,” she said. “He kept that from me ‘for my own protection.’ His famous excuse.”

Caleb cursed and ran a hand over his neck. “We need that location. We’re chasing our tails here. He knows we’re onto him.”

“I’ll find the lab,” Cassandra offered. “I’ll get into his hard drive and dig around his personal space, his office, and his house.”

“No,” Michael said, his tone implacable. “Even if I’d let you attempt such a thing, which I won’t, it’s too dangerous.”

She stiffened at that, throwing a fiery glare in his direction, as Michael added, “He has cameras everywhere, Cassandra. He’ll know what you did.”

“And he knows I am nosey,” she said. “If I get busted, I’ll suck up and make up a lie. I can get by him. If anyone can get by my father’s systems, it’s me. And it’s not like you have a long list of options here.”

“We’ll start with my mother’s place,” Michael insisted. “Search it fully. Look for proof that Taylor is involved. Or even a PMI location.”

“Whatever we do,” Cassandra said, “I need to call my father. It’s getting late. He’ll be suspicious if I’m not at work without a phone call.”

Sterling snatched up the portable phone sitting on the coffee table and passed it to Michael. “What’s the number you’re calling from?”

Cassandra recited her cell phone number. Michael handed her the phone as Sterling keyed the number into his laptop. She drew a heavy breath when the line began to ring, nerves fluttering in her stomach. “I’ve never been so nervous calling my father in my life.”

It was all Michael could do not to touch her, but Kelly’s request that he visit her rang in his mind, and he restrained himself. Any further contact with Cassandra until he knew what the doc had to say was nothing more than selfish. But damn, he felt selfish with Cassandra. “You’ll do fine.”

“Morning, General,” she said into the phone. Everyone knew he hated when she called him General, and thus she teasingly did it often. “Reporting in sick.” She listened a minute. “You know how these headaches linger.” Pause. “Yes. Really. I’m fine. I just need to sleep off the haze so I’m going to turn off my phone. I…” She listened a minute. “Yes, I should be in tomorrow.”

Michael grabbed her hand.
No
, he mouthed silently.

Defiance flashed in her eyes. “Maybe we could have dinner tomorrow night? I feel like we’re disconnected, Daddy.”

Michael glared at her, and she glared right back, saying a few more words to her father before hanging up. “What the hell was that, Cassandra?”

“Smart,” she proclaimed firmly, her spine stiff, resolve steady. “That was smart. No one is closer to my father than me. He’ll make time for me. That means he won’t be at your mother’s house. That means I will go to his house afterward for coffee. I can get his hard drive, and you can get your mother’s. I can manipulate those shipments of bullets the same way Brock did. I can get you your ammunition. I’m all you have.”

“What about your eyes?”

“If they don’t fade,” she said, “then I’ll use contacts like Sterling does.”

“He’s too astute for that.”

Sharp-witted, she said, “He’ll blame the migraine if they look funny.”

“What about the fact that Adam attacked you while I was with you. He knows you are with me, which means Brock will know.”

“All the more reason to do this sooner rather than later,” she countered.

He forgot Caleb and Sterling were in the room, furious at her actions. “Don’t you think you should have talked to us about this first?”

Disbelief shackled her words. “Us?
Who
is us? Don’t you mean
you
? And no, I didn’t consider talking to you. There is no talking to you. You simply blast orders.”

“No, Cassandra,” he said.

“You don’t get to decide for me, Michael.” She cut a look at Caleb. “Does it make sense to use me to help?”

“I am your Lifebond,” Michael stated flatly. He didn’t give a damn what Caleb said. Not about Cassandra.

Her eyes rocketed back to his, Caleb forgotten. “No, you’re not,” she corrected. “And some biological, physical connection does not give you a license to make my decisions.”

Possessiveness ground through his every nerve ending. “The hell it doesn’t.”

Caleb and Sterling stood up, heading for the door, clearly getting the idea they were intruding. Neither Michael nor Cassandra paid them any mind. “You cannot come in and out of my life,” Cassandra ground out, “and then snap your fingers and expect me to obey. You don’t scare me, Michael. You’ve never scared me.”

He grabbed her, spread her out on the bed, and went down on top of her. “You should be scared, Cassandra.”

Her chin lifted, her full lips close, inviting, all but begging him to kiss them. “I’m not,” she declared. “What are you going to do about it?”

What was he going to do about it? Exactly what he’d promised himself he wouldn’t do. He flattened her on the bed and spread her legs. Settled the steely length of his cock against the warm V of her body and kissed her, a long, deep thrust of his tongue, followed by a lavish tasting.

She moaned into his mouth, her arms wrapping around his neck, her body curling into his. One hand traveled possessively over her slender rib cage and roughly caressed the high, full mounds of her breasts. Another soft moan was his reward, and it was a damn delicious one that all but destroyed what little restraint he had left. He tore his mouth away from hers, clinging to a thread of control. “You will not endanger yourself,” he ordered, his eyes boring into hers. “You will not.”

“If I am in your life, I am a part of this war. If I’m not in your life, I am still a part of this war. Nothing you do can change that.”

“Cassandra—”

She pressed her fingers to his lips. “Your bossiness is sexy when you’re inside me,” she warned, her voice laced with a heady mixture of anger and seduction that about had him over the edge. “It’s irritating when you’re not. So either get naked or shut up.”

“I’m not going to shut up,” he said.

“Good,” she whispered. That meant he was going to get naked.

He nipped her lower lip roughly, and she gasped, a sweet little purr following. “But when I am naked and buried inside you, Cassandra,” he said, “the answer is still no.”

A sly smile slid onto her lips. “We’ll see about that.”

Chapter 23

Brock woke from the dim recesses of sleep with a hazy out-of-body experience that had him gasping for air and clawing his way through the decay of darkness. He sat up in a blast of energy, hands braced behind him on a cold, hard surface. His eyes fluttered at the light—long, black lines fading in and out of focus. He blinked again and again, refocused. Bars. There were bars all around him. He was in a massive cage. Cage. Was he dreaming?

Slowly, his head tilted downward, and in stunned disbelief he realized he was as naked as the day he’d been born. Another harsh breath and he scanned the area, memories beginning to rebuild themselves. There were cameras pointed at him on either side of the cage. He squeezed his eyes shut and willed the memories to come back to him. The bridge. The injection. Jocelyn. Her sultry feminine curves, those big, blue eyes. The instant her image filled his head, his dick went ramrod stiff.

His hand went to his leg, a grimace sliding across his face as he flashed back to Powell jamming the letter opener into his leg. The pain. He reached down, touched all over his leg. Saw nothing. Laughed with the realization that it was done—he was a GTECH. He’d been transformed.

His heart tripped with another memory. Powell demanding he admit that he’d given Green Hornets to Lucian, which, in retrospect, had been a jug-headed decision. Idiot Lucian. He should have known he couldn’t keep them under wraps. He inhaled, tracing a path back through the pain and fog—had he admitted what he had done? Relief washed over him with the realization he’d stayed strong. He had not admitted anything that would jeopardize his chance to lead the GTECHs or to crush Lucian.

Adrenaline rushed through his veins, licking at his muscles with a sudden burst of energy. He flexed his hand several times—power chasing each movement, strength coursing through his veins. Leveraging his weight on his palms, Brock leapt to his feet. Power surged through his limbs, and he tilted his head back and roared with the pure joy of it. This was what he’d been waiting for. This was the beginning of greatness.

But then, his hands closed around the bars of the cage—a hard thud of reality punching him in the chest. He was locked up. Computers lined the walls. A long lab table faced the cage with electronic equipment. All framing the
cage
. He was naked. Imprisoned. The high of his transformation churned to a grinding halt.

What the hell was going on? He grimaced. Powell. It was one of his mind games. A control thing. Fine. He’d play his game until he could turn this around—and he would.

A sudden jolt of tingling awareness rushed down his spine an instant before Jocelyn sashayed into the room, a rush of sexy curves and long, dark hair. “I see you’re awake,” she said, setting a stack of files down on the table facing the cage. Her gaze traveled down his body, settling on his cock. Already half hard, it twitched to life.

“And naked,” he said. “You come for the peep show or what?”

“I came to finish what I started,” she said, leaning on the desk, her blue eyes blazing at him.

He arched a brow. “Which is what?”

“To make Red Dart a success, starting with you.”

“What about Red Dart requires I be naked?”

Several seconds passed. “The General wanted it clear you were being reborn a new man.” But she liked it. He could see it in the heavy-lidded stare she cast his way. Something about Jocelyn ripped through him like a raging storm and settled hard in his chest. Suddenly, a memory of Powell and Jocelyn burst into his head.

“You’re fucking him.” He would not allow that to occur again.

Her expression flashed with surprise before she judiciously countered with, “And you want to, don’t you? The minute you’re free—you’re going to turn on him.” Her arms crossed over full breasts.

“If I wanted to fuck Powell I’d have joined Adam,” he said. “But if he touches you again—I’ll do one better. I’ll kill him.” He had no idea why the idea of Powell touching this woman turned him inside out. No clue why he wanted to rip the bars away and go shake her until she knew Powell was not to touch her again. Fire licked at his limbs, at his mind. It eroded common sense, tore at him like a blade slicing muscle and flesh.

She studied him, her eyes narrowed on his face. “Why would you say such a thing?” she asked. “You don’t even know me.”

He pinned her in a tormented stare. “I wanted you before. I want you more now.”

“This must be some reaction to your transformation,” she said. “I’m going to call the doctor.” She reached for a phone on the desk.

Another memory assailed him. “Wait.” His eyes narrowed. Michael had been there. Michael. And she’d called him
her son.
“Holy crap,” he said in disbelief, tilting his head to study her more closely. “Is Michael your son?”

She set the phone down with a thud equal to a concrete block hitting the ground. “What does Michael have to do with anything?”

Bingo. Hit a nerve. A raw one, too. “Everything, it appears. He
is
your son, is he not?” The uneasiness that flashed in her face was all the answer he needed. “Powell’s popping you, and your son is popping his daughter. That’s a little freaky, even for me.”

“What?” she said. “Michael is seeing Powell’s daughter?”

“Apparently they have a long history.”

“But Michael is Zodius.” She shook her head. “No. That makes no sense. Powell’s daughter would not be seeing a Zodius soldier.”

“Michael
was
Zodius. He’s a Renegade. One of the good guys, supposedly, but then no one really knows whose side Michael plays on, from what I can tell. And really, who are the good guys?”

A sharp, stiff reply followed. “Michael isn’t one of the good guys.”

Michael sure had a way of twisting everyone into a pissing, little wad. “And Powell is?”

Her defenses bristled. “He’s trying to protect this country from Adam.”

More like control the world, but Brock didn’t care. Not when he was part of that control. “Guess you know Powell hates Michael then. Suppose it’s expected with Michael getting down and dirty with his daughter and trying to kill him.” He lifted an eyebrow. “You hate him, too, don’t you?” Interesting. “What could he have done to turn his own mother against him?”

“Are we ready to get started?” Powell’s voice ricocheted through the room a moment before he appeared with Dr. Chin by his side.

Jocelyn whirled on him. “Is Michael with Zodius or the Renegades?”

Powell’s gaze flickered over Brock with disapproval before returning to Jocelyn. “He is a GTECH, Jocelyn. They are all GTECHs, and they must all be controlled.”

“But he’s working with Adam,” she said. “You said he’s working with Adam.”

“Don’t go and get a wild maternal hair to save your son, Jocelyn,” he chided. “He’s far more dangerous than his father ever was and failing to deal with him, I assure you, will result in the loss of innocent lives. And we both know you have more blood on your hands from supporting his father than you can bear as it is.” He made a vague gesture toward the computer. “Show me your brilliant work with Red Dart, my dear.”

“I’m not sure it’s safe,” she commented and eyed Dr. Chin. “Brock is having a reaction to the transformation. He’s aggressive. Possessive.” She hesitated. “Oversexed.”

“Whatever he was before the injections, he is more so now,” Dr. Chin informed her. “This is nothing to be concerned about. If he has any adverse reaction, I’m here to intervene.”

Brock clutched onto the bars so hard he thought either the steel or his arms would break. He was not oversexed. He was not aggressive. And he did not want anyone intervening. He wanted this done and over.

“Do whatever you are going to do, and get me the hell out of here!” Brock screamed, shaking the bars. “He’s right, Jocelyn. We are all GTECHs. And I am their leader.”

“Get on with it, Jocelyn,” Powell ordered.

She hesitated. “I need the crystal.”

He pulled a thin silver box from his jacket and opened it. Instantly, a glowing red light emanated from the crystal. Jocelyn removed it and set it inside the electronic device by the computer. Her gaze lifted to Brock’s for a tormented moment. A few keys were punched, and there was a cranking sound near the cameras as the barrel of a gun extended. Brock turned toward the weapon, ready for whatever he had coming. All he wanted was freedom.

***

General Powell stood behind Jocelyn, arms in front of his chest, one finger pressed under his chin, watching West act like a fool about to rule the world. He knew the man had betrayed him, and West would learn quickly who was in charge.

“Here we go,” Jocelyn murmured and punched a key. A red dot flashed on his chest, painless, silent, followed instantly by another. Brock stiffened. “That’s the tranquilizer,” Jocelyn explained. “It’s a two-second stun he shouldn’t remember.”

Sure enough, Brock straightened and turned back to Powell. “Is that it?” he said. “Am I done? Are we ready to go kick some GTECH ass?”

“Is it done?” Powell asked, glancing at Jocelyn.

She punched a few more keys and turned the computer screen toward him. Powell glanced down at the beeping light on the computer screen. “Walk forward,” Jocelyn called out to Brock. He did as ordered. The signal moved with him.

“Excellent,” Powell said. “It’s holding.” He smiled at Jocelyn. She’d always been Taylor’s research-and-development genius. Though it seemed a miracle that she’d handled the job of CEO over Taylor Industries, considering her recent displays of weakness. No wonder her husband had kept her involvement with Taylor off the grid. She’d have to be dealt with, controlled fully.

Jocelyn punched another few keys and coordinates popped up. “You will now know his exact location.” She keyed again and pulled up a long number. “That is his individual marker. A code we insert along with the tracking material that makes his signal unique. The technology… well… it still amazes me. It is nothing that this planet would have found on our own for centuries.”

“And the torture mechanism?” Powell asked, clamping down on his growing excitement. Jocelyn had inadvertently made the magnificent discovery that when Red Dart was exposed with certain silent sound waves, it sliced and diced the nervous system. Unfortunately, any GTECH within a certain radius would be affected, which meant it would have limitations for individual interrogation. But as a mass military operation, it would be irreplaceable. Spray the GTECHs with rays of Red Dart and then bring their entire force to their knees.

“We simply have to activate the sound wave, and the GTECH should respond.” She held up a compact remote. “We have not tested this on humans. Dr. Chin and I both believe he needs to be on monitors and stress tested.”

“I do have to agree with Jocelyn,” Dr. Chin inserted. “We’ve pulled him from monitoring rather quickly.”

Powell flipped the remote over in his hand several times. “If we give him everything we’ve got, and he survives,” Powell said, “then you’ve done your stress test, and we move on.”

“If he survives,” Jocelyn quipped. “We need to pull back. To test slowly. We’ve come too far to blow it now.”

He arched a brow. “The man gets a hard-on for you, and you suddenly want to pull back and protect him? And yes, I know he wants you. You forget the cameras. I was watching when you entered the room. I saw and heard everything.” He grabbed her and pulled her into his arms, his hand sliding over her ass. She gasped, her hands going to his chest. He yelled out to West. “I’m touching her, West. Who do you want to fuck now? Her or me?”

West screamed in rage, paced the cage, and jerked the bars. “I’ll kill you! Kill you, Powell. Skin you alive!” Animalistic snarls slid from his lips.

Powell released Jocelyn, who quickly scurried away like some pathetic rabbit.

“You sonofabitch!” she yelled. “You’re intentionally trying to upset him. This is not what science and medicine are about!”

Powell ignored her. “What do you make of it, Chin?”

Dr. Chin scrutinized West, who had stopped screaming and was now running in circles around his cage. He cut Powell a look edged with concern. “I’ve warned you that faster administration of the serum could lead to a more primal outcome, especially with the new formula.”

Powell fingered the remote. “Even animals can be trained to obey,” he commented dryly. “With the right discipline.”

Dr. Chin glanced at Jocelyn who was hugging herself. “I suspect there is a lifebond connection between you and West.”

Jocelyn gaped with instant rejection. “I’m not even attracted to that man.”

“A Lifebond would be attracted to her mate,” Chin agreed. “We’ll have to do some testing.”

“I’m not going to become a lab rat,” Jocelyn said. “This is not what I signed up for.”

Powell looked down his nose at her. “I thought you wanted to protect our country?”

She shook her head. “Lifebonding has nothing to do with protecting my country.”

“We must know what makes the GTECHs tick. It is imperative.” Powell considered a moment, his gaze shifted to Dr. Chin, who, unlike Jocelyn, had a stomach for necessity. “I wonder what he’d do if we put her in there with him?”

“What?” Jocelyn grabbed the table. “I am not going in a cage with that… that thing you created.”

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